


Another Day at the Office

by the_random_writer



Category: Bourne (Movies), The Bourne Supremacy (2004)
Genre: Crack, Dark Crack, Gen, Law Enforcement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-04-16 08:57:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4619346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_random_writer/pseuds/the_random_writer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A crackfic where Kirill from 'The Bourne Supremacy' has a more ordinary use for his skills.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Day at the Office

Kirill watched from the window of the ground floor bedroom as a plain, black SUV pulled up in front of the client's house.

The driver manoeuvred the vehicle back and forth a few times until it sat neatly within the space, then switched off the engine, pulled on the brake, opened the door and clambered out. He was a prosperous-looking white male in his early fifties with thinning hair, weathered skin and a hint of a spare tire, but who otherwise seemed healthy and spry.

The man carefully scanned the houses around him, checking for witnesses and curious eyes, but the neighbourhood was quiet and still. The Russian was his only observer, and an invisible one at that. Persuaded it was safe to proceed, the man pulled a baseball cap from his pocket, swept it firmly onto his head and set off towards the shopping mall at the end of the street.

Kirill turned to look at his client; an anxious, frail, kindly woman in her mid- to late sixties. He said nothing, but simply nodded at her and buttoned his coat.  _Alea iacta est_. It was too late for the man now. The line had been well and truly crossed, and the mission would proceed as planned.

The client gave him a nervous smile, patted him gently on the arm, then retreated to the safety of her kitchen at the rear of the house. She didn't know the details of what he was about to do, but she  _did_  know how he made his living, so she obviously understood it would not be a pleasant affair.

Kirill waited for fifteen seconds, then left the house by the front door, taking care not to disturb the enormous dog lolling across the end of the path. He followed the man from a reasonable distance, using the baseball cap as a way to monitor his speed and position. He himself was dressed in clothing appropriate for the climate and the location, so was not particularly concerned that the mark would figure out he was being tailed.

He waited for the perfect moment, when the crowd was thin and the traffic on the road was light. His work was always easier when there were no witnesses around to report him, or God forbid, who might attempt to interfere. The last thing he wanted to deal with today was a repeat of the incident up in Crescent Heights. A flush of shame crept on to his cheeks as he remembered the details of  _that_  debacle. Not one of his finest or most efficient hours...

As the man strolled by the pedestrian entrance to an underground car park, Kirill decided to make his move. He approached silently from behind and grabbed the man by the scruff of the neck, then pushed him into the filthy stairwell and up against a graffiti-covered wall.

He leaned in close to growl menacingly in the man's ear. "Do not attempt to shout for help. Do not attempt to break free. Do not attempt to turn around. Do not attempt to look at me. Do not attempt to speak to me." He tightened his grip very slightly, making it clear he meant what he said and would punish non-compliance with force. "I have some instructions for you. If you value your health and your life, you will hear them and obey. Nod if you understand."

The man breathed heavily for a few moments, fighting the urge to call out for help, then nodded his head in silent but reluctant consent.

Kirill let out a quiet sigh of regret. Compliance was the cleanest response, but sometimes, he preferred it when they tried to resist. It gave him a reason to exercise his talent for violence, if only for a couple of minutes. A couple of minutes was usually as much as a pampered man like this could take.

"I am here on the orders of Angelica Gordon," Kirill solemnly explained.

At Kirill's mention of that name, the man's eyes went wide with fear. With very good reason, in Kirill's opinion. As everyone in his department knew, you didn't annoy a woman like that and hope to die of old age in your bed surrounded by your nearest and dearest.

"Mister Lewis, you have already received two formal warnings," Kirill went on. "But for some reason I cannot understand, you refuse to see the error of your ways. This afternoon, not twenty minutes ago, I watched with my own eyes as you offended again."

The man's shoulders slumped in defeat, and he hung his head in shame. He acknowledged, too late, that he had done something very wrong.

"Mister Lewis, this is your third and final warning. If you leave your car in Mister Miller's disabled parking space again, the consequences will be extremely unpleasant, for both you and your SUV. Comply with municipal regulations, and you will never see or hear from me or Miss Gordon again. Do you understand?"

The man swallowed thickly and nodded again.

"Good. Then we are done."

Kirill released his hold on the man's neck, stepped back, smoothed down the front of his coat, then turned and walked briskly away from the scene.

He returned to the house on Sycamore Drive to submit his final report. The enormous dog had barely moved, but Mrs. Miller was waiting for him on the porch, holding a plate of freshly baked cookies. White chocolate chip and macadamia nut. His favourite. He selected a biscuit from the plate, smiled and nodded a silent thanks, then wrestled his phone out of his pocket and dialled the last incoming number.

"Good afternoon, could I please speak to Miss Gordon in the Compliance Enforcement Unit? She is in a meeting? Perhaps I could leave a message for her? You have a pen? Good. Please tell her that Compliance Officer Orlov called and that the Lewis file is now closed. No. That is all. Thank you. You also have a nice day."

He pulled back his sleeve to look at his watch. It was just after three o'clock.

Perhaps if he moved quickly, and if the traffic wasn't too bad, he could check out the new movie theatre over on the west side and still be home in time for the early evening news…

 


End file.
